A Fantasy of Bees and Honey
by cactusnell
Summary: Sherlock has pilfered something from Molly's bedroom. What happens when she finds out? Sherlolly


It was an unusually slow day in the lab at St. Bart's Hospital. One of those boring days when one had to busy themselves with unnecessary, and unrewarding tasks. There were no cadavers to cut, no tissues to test, and no reports to review. Molly had been occupying herself with a second rewrite of her latest monograph on the effect of carbon dioxide levels on the health of living tissue, and how rising levels due to climate change could possibly affect the biodome. Important work, no doubt, but barely enough to keep her awake at this point. It was when she glanced at the adorable tabby cat clock sitting on her bookcase that she realized she could fill her time with another task. The cat's tummy told her that it was 3:15 in the afternoon, but her computer correctly informed her that it was no later than 10:37 AM. She had found a task! The batteries were obviously in need of replacement. She grabbed the orange tabby, so closely resembling her beloved Toby, and turned him upside down, only to find that the battery compartment was secured by a number of small screws.

Sherlock Holmes was currently in Molly's lab, supposedly working on something of importance. Exactly what, Molly didn't know. But, according to Sherlock, everything he did was important. She left her office to approach the man as he sat at his favorite microscope, peering into the eyepiece.

"Sherlock, I seem to remember that you have a small screwdriver on your keyring, right? I need to borrow it…"

"What for?"

"Toby needs his batteries replaced…"

"I suspected as much. He hasn't been as aggressive of late."

"You know I mean my Toby clock, you git. And my real Toby wouldn't be aggressive if you didn't insist on rubbing your feet on the carpet and shocking him with static electricity…"

"It was an experiment…"

"Or putting him in the clothes dryer…"

"It's like a giant hamster wheel! He needed the exercise! Do you realize how fat he's getting?"

"He's getting fat because you substitute fruit loops for his dry food, Sherlock! And that whole dryer thing could have killed him!"

"It was on the lowest possible setting, Molly. Barely enough for him to work up a sweat.."

Molly simply rolled her eyes and sighed with exasperation, before reaching into his nearby coat's pocket in search of his keyring. What she found was totally unexpected, however. But evidently not by the detective, who had raised his head from the 'scope and sat rigidly still, expecting the worse.

"Sherlock," Molly started in a slow and measured tone, "What are my panties doing in your coat pocket?"

"What panties, Molly? And what makes you think they're yours?"

"These panties, Sherlock!" She shoved the offending undergarments in his face..

"Still, how do you know they're yours? Surely you don't own the only such pair in the world?"

"I own a pair exactly like this which have been missing for a number of weeks now. So how do you explain them?"

"Coincidence?"

"You don't believe in coincidence, Sherlock!"

"No, but I was hoping against hope that you did."

"So, balance of probability, then, you stole my panties. Would you like to explain why?"

"There's a bee on them," he replied, pointing to the small, embroidered bee adorning the delicate panties, flying amidst a patch a wildflowers. "You know my fascination with bees, Molly."

"I didn't know that fascination had extended to my underwear drawer!"

"Molly, the fabric is perfect for cleaning lenses. Smooth, soft. It makes a perfect polishing cloth for eyeglasses…"

"You don;t wear eyeglasses!"

"I sometimes wear sunglasses, Dr. Hooper. Same difference."

"This is London, Mr. Holmes, not California. There is hardly a need to wear sunglasses that often."

"The are also excellent for wiping debris from microscopic slides, and eyepieces. That's why I keep them in my pocket, so they are readily available."

"You don't mean to say you whip them out in my lab! You could be seen. What would people think?"

"Come to think of it, Mike Stamford did give me an odd look the other day…"

"Oh my god, Sherlock, what did you do?"

"I polished a slide, and smiled at him. What else do you think?"

Molly sighed once again, and, blushing just a bit, asked, "Is that really why you stole them, Sherlock?"

Sherlock, rather uncharacteristically, sighed in response, and, unable to look her in the eye, said, "I know what you want to hear. You want me to say that I took them to use in my fantasies. That I like to picture you wearing them, then not wearing them. That I like the feel of the delicate fabric on my fingers, but not as much as the feel of your delicate skin…"

"God, no, Sherlock! I don't want you to lie!"

"I merely said that I know that's what you wanted to hear. I neer meant to imply that it was a lie, Molly."

Sensing an opening, Molly interrupted him, "Sherlock, did you know I have a matching bra, too. Just like these…"

"Even down to the bee?"

"What's with you and bees, anyway? But yes, the bra also has a bee on it. I'll show it to you if you come over tonight. I'll make tea. I know you prefer it to coffee, especially in the evening. Besides, the last time I invited you for coffee, you blew me off."

"Can I bring some honey?"

"I didn't know you liked honey in your tea."

"I don't, but honey can be used in a variety of ways, don't you think. Some more interesting, and entertaining, than others…"

"

"Honey, huh? Sounds interesting. I begin to understand your affection for bees." Molly got a dreamy look on her face, as if imagining how honey would taste when… She suddenly shook her head, as if trying to regain control. "Fine, bring the honey, but don't even think about using it on Toby…"

"Farthest thing from my mind." The detective smiled down at his pathologist. The smile had just a hint of a predatory look to it. Molly found she enjoyed it.

"Just, please, wear that lovely purple shirt of yours. I've got one or two fantasies of my own to work out."

"Just one or two? That's hardly enough to keep us busy…"

"True, but I've got a whole drawer full of lingerie, and a Victoria's Secret catalog in reserve. I'm sure we can think of something else…"

"I can be very creative."

"I'm counting on it Mr. Holmes." She smiled seductively as she replaced the panties in one pocket of his Belstaff, and fished the keyring out of the other. Winking, she returned to her office, leaving a rather discombobulated detective to work out plans for surviving the night ahead of him.


End file.
